


An Alpaca in Sheep's Clothing

by LaEmperatrizMariana



Series: Miscellaneous [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-25 12:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaEmperatrizMariana/pseuds/LaEmperatrizMariana
Summary: Prowl is working undercover at a hospital, while Knockout has been kidnapped by Lockdown and his crew! A simple, yet long-winded story about lies and deceit.
Series: Miscellaneous [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/956226





	An Alpaca in Sheep's Clothing

**Author's Note:**

>   * Blast from the past, AKA an old fic from 2014, reposted as is from my Tumblr here in 2021, almost 7 years later. How much I've grown as a writer.
>   * Speaking of growth, what happens here and how my TF AU has developed independently from this story, makes me question whether or not it should be "canon" in my AU. But, since I wrote it I should "own up" to my own creation. I like the story, despite its flaws. I'm tempted to revisit this concept in the future, where my skills will finally do this story some justice.
>   * **Old A/N:** Not beta-read. I tried hard not to make it dialogue-heavy. Also, this was once called “Failure is Always an Option” and had 5 parts, but I’ve decided to consolidate this story. This title, though irrelevant-sounding, makes more sense.
> 


Prowl had been working at the local hospital as an undercover agent. For this reason, he was sporting a new but temporary paint-job – medic red and white, complete with the medic symbol on his doors and chassis. Posing as an intern, Prowl’s mission was to guard a Decepticon criminal admitted there. Prowl was uneasy about this, due to the fact he questioned the motives behind it. The criminal was guarded from other Decepticons. The reasons why were not revealed to Prowl at the time. This did not hinder Prowl from completing his mission and working at the facility. Something about caring for others and the routine made it relaxing for Prowl. It didn’t take long for Prowl to blend into the environment. Everyone else thought he was just another medic there. No one besides Ratchet, knew Prowl was working undercover.

One day, when Prowl had finished helping a coworker with documentation, he overheard Ratchet discuss the arrival of a new surgeon. The new surgeon was a well-known Decepticon surgeon named Knockout. Ratchet had heard about Knockout, but hadn’t seen him during the war. Ratchet had been anxious about accepting Knockout into the facility because of the criminal. However, he ignored his initial gut instincts and hired him. Due to the ceasefire, they could not discriminate against a mech for his faction. Prowl was suspicious as well as he listened. He then felt a tap on his shoulder. Spooked, Prowl turned around and was a bit relieved to see First Aid.

“Please, no eavesdropping…what’s your name?” First Aid asked in a somewhat confused manner. Prowl looked awfully familiar. First Aid wasn’t sure where he had seen him before.

“Prowl,” whispered Prowl as he realized his mistake.

“Oh, I had a patient back at Delphi named Prowl!” he replied, “Anyway, eavesdropping is against hospital policy. It compromises a patient’s right to privacy. Even if the patient isn’t around, someone they know might be. You seem like a good kid, trying to follow the rules and all. So I’m not going to write you up, but please take this as a warning.” First Aid then walked away as Prowl hurried to the break room to take a deep breath.

Meanwhile, Knockout was on his way to the hospital. He had opted to take the more scenic route and was driving there in his vehicle mode. Before he knew it, he suddenly become surrounded by random mechs who were also in vehicle mode. They appeared to be herding him. Knockout tried to flee, but he could not. These mechs blocked him from doing so and drastic measures would mess up his paint job. He transformed and confronted them. They also transformed as well. Seeing their Decepticon insignias, Knockout said to them, “Hey! I’m on the way to work, leave me alone! You can’t just attack a fellow Decepticon, you’ll end up on The List if you did.”

One of the Decepticons smiled, “We’re not going to hurt you Dr. Knockout.”

“Then what do you want from me?” asked Knockout nervously, but he was unable to listen to the reply. Someone had gotten behind him and injected him with a sedative. Knockout had no idea how long he had been unconscious but he awoke in a cramped cell.

“Good, you’re awake…” said the guard.

“…What is the meaning of this?!” yelled Knockout angrily.

“Relax,” replied the guard, “we simply need to borrow your identity. It’s official Decepticon business. But you deserve an explanation. You see, there is this fugitive that needs to be brought to Starscream alive. But we can’t just break into the hospital where he’s at because it’s heavily-guarded. This fugitive has done things that are damaging to the Decepticon cause. Sure, Starscream is the elected leader of Cybertron, but that does not stop him from being a Decepticon at heart. We will release you once our mission is complete. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but just letting some random guy replace me? I demand to talk to your captain!”

“Sorry Doctor, our captain, Lockdown, is away on a mission. The one who is taking your place is also our CMO, so you’ve got nothing to worry about. He’s a competent surgeon and won’t threaten your licensure.”

Meanwhile at the hospital, the Impostor arrived. He was expecting a greeting, but instead he met up with a rather cranky Ratchet. “You are two hours late.” The Impostor smiled slyly, “Listen Doc, I can explain. You see I’m new to the area and things have changed a lot since the war…”

“…No excuse,” replied Ratchet coldly, “there is no law against you visiting the facility beforehand. Even if you were caught up in unexpected heavy traffic, you should’ve notified us. We’ve had to scramble to find a temporary substitute. But no matter, you are here. Come along.” Ratchet then led the Impostor deeper into the facility as he gave him a brief tour, completely unaware of the impostor.

Prowl walked down the hallway when Pharma approached him. “I have good news! You’re going to be my assistant today.”

“What?” asked Prowl confused, “I mean, what do you need me to do?”

“Follow me,” Pharma then led Prowl to his office. Once they were there, Pharma pulled out a binder with pictures of the staff, including some of the new interns. “Alright, you seem like the kind of mech who’d be good at this. I overheard Ratchet mention an undercover officer posing as a medic to safeguard that Decepticon scoundrel. I’ve confronted Ratchet about it, but he refuses to tell me his identity. Since He’d know I’d search the files, I’ve resorted to this crude method. These are the suspects.” Pharma showed Prowl the photos of the suspects, most of which were the interns plus Ambulon.

“Why am I not on the list but Ambulon is? I’m a new intern too and he’s worked here for a while.”

“Oh please,” Pharma chuckled, “Sure you seem like the kind of mech who’d risk it all for the greater good, but you’re too meek to be a cop. Cops are enforcers, the type that instill fear of the law into the people. You’re like the last person who’d do such a thing. You care too much about others for that to ever cross your mind. Besides, no matter how much he denies it, Ambulon is Decepticon scum. He wants revenge on him as much as any other Decepticon would. So he’s like a temporary double-agent…or something. I want you to keep an eye on these suspects, okay? Plus, what you told me yesterday. I really don’t want that experience to discourage you from furthering your career. Cons like him belong in the pit.” Pharma closed the binder and left his office with Prowl.

About a minute later, Ratchet and the Impostor walked down the hallway. Ratchet had just finished giving the Impostor a tour of the hospital. Finally, Ratchet showed him where Knockout’s new office was at. The Impostor was impressed and his smile was genuine. Ratchet then went to his office to rest. As soon as he closed the door, the Impostor walked down the hallways in search of the criminal. He felt someone following him, but when he turned around no one was there. Before the Impostor finished his search, he was asked to help perform a routine surgery. Someone needed their helm repaired.

Meanwhile at Lockdown’s ship, Knockout was starting to cooperate enough that the crew didn’t feel the need to keep him detained. Knockout had a tendency to identify with his captors as a way of avoiding torture and punishment. “So tell me more about your CMO,” he said as he helped himself to some candy.

“Our CMO had always dreamed of becoming a surgeon!” said the guard, “Before the war, back when there was blatant discrimination against your alt mode and your economic status, he got lucky enough to be allowed to pursue his dream. He never thought they’d let a poor mech like him become a doctor. He made the best of it and studied every day; got good grades and everything.”

“Then what happened?”

“He got screwed over. Apparently, this ‘chance’ he got was a cruel prank. The reason he was chosen was as an experiment. They wanted to show the world that poor people are poor because they’re dumb and inferior. Our CMO had proved them wrong, not only was he passing, he was excelling. This did not sit well with them. So they paid his professors to flunk him. Those who refused where temporarily suspended or transferred. Our CMO flunked out and they told him he could go back if he paid the tuition out of his own pocket.”

“That’s…but they gave him a second chance, right?”

“I don’t think you understand. Not only did they screwed him over, but they added insult to injury because there was no way he could afford to go back to school. The tuition is astronomical! It’s one thing for him to have flunked because he didn’t quite cut it, but to be kicked out only because he did his best? You might not care, but this is probably the only chance he’ll get to living out his dream…even for a day. That’s why we’re all cool with him working the entire shift. He is a good mech, he needs this.”

“Well…I’m okay with this. If he’s such a good doctor, then I mean…yeah.” Knockout shrugged, “He sounds like a cool guy. Might even try to get some people to help him out so he’d go back and finish what he needs to finish.”

The guard smiled nervously, “I…appreciate the sentiment, and I bet you he would too, but times have changed. If he left to go back to school, then we’d be without a medic; a leader. He’s not the guy who’d just leave us hanging. He cares a lot than you think.”

Back at the hospital, the Impostor went into the supply room to get stuff, when the door opened behind him. He turned around and made eye-contact with Pharma. Pharma recognized him immediately and said to him mockingly, “You’re not Knockout, you gaudy re-deco. A simple paint-job can’t fool me! I know exactly who you are and I’m telling Ratch—"

The Impostor grabbed Pharma by the neck with one servo and began to choke him, “You’re just as annoying as ever Pharma. Listen, I just came here to do my job and I—"

Pharma pulled out his chainsaw, “Let go of me or I’ll slice that pretty neck of yours open.”

The Impostor smiled and pulled out his own chainsaw, “Two can play at that game, Pharma.” Pharma got intimidated and put away his chainsaw. The Impostor continued, “As I was saying, I’m after a fugitive. I forget his name but I know how he looks like. I just came to check him out early, that’s all…”

“I think I know who you’re talking about. There is a patient in room 113, a Decepticon. The regular security officers check there often and there is even an undercover cop looking out for him. Honestly, I can’t stand him. Not only is he rude to all the Autobot and NAIL physicians, but he has said some very lewd things to my favourite intern who couldn’t even hold back his tears when he told me about this. And no one messes with the bots I like without repercussion. If he’s the mech you’re looking for, by Primus I’ll do whatever it takes to help you succeed.”

The Impostor looked at Pharma for a second before releasing his grip. “Only because I know you ain’t playing. If it is him, I’ll let you know ASAP. If it’s not, you’re still gonna help me. Got that?” The Impostor grabbed his supplies and quickly headed back to where he was needed. He walked down the hallway and managed to walk by room 113. Sure enough, it was the mech he was looking for.

Some time had passed and everything had been going well at the hospital. At one point, the Impostor was asked to assist Ratchet in a surgery. The surgery was difficult and the patient was hemorrhaging. Impaled diagonally across the chest with a giant drill, nearly missing his spark chamber, the patient barely clung to life. Ratchet was trying desperately to keep the patient stable, but it was not working. His injuries were too severe. Annoyed, the Impostor asked Ratchet, “Dr. Ratchet, mind if I try something?” Worried that his servos would lock up at that point, Ratchet backed away and let the Impostor work.

The Impostor had seen this type of injury before. One of his fellow crew-members had suffered a similar injury once. The Impostor worked quickly to stabilize the patient, though he employed highly unorthodox techniques. Back at the ship, the Impostor had to work with limited tools, most of which were random things he had salvaged, but they did the job. Ratchet and the others watched him work. Though the patient was weak from hemorrhaging, his spark was no longer flickering. The Impostor then let Ratchet finish the procedure, while he assisted.

After the surgery, Ratchet stopped the Impostor and extended his servo at him. The Impostor seeing the gesture shook his servo. “I am impressed Dr. Knockout,” said Ratchet, “your method worried me when you were suddenly going away textbook procedure. Half the things you did, I’d wouldn’t have thought of. Most importantly, you saved that poor mech’s life, 60% of patients do not survive that kind of injury. Most that do are unstable for quite a long time. Tell me, where did you learn this?”

“In the field during the war,” replied the Impostor, “we did have to work with what we could find. We had to make sure our soldiers lived to fight again. Weren’t you forced to do the same?”

“Yes,” replied Ratchet, “you look familiar, Dr. Knockout. You remind me of this brilliant student I once had, except you’re spikier.”

“There was only one medical academy,” said the Impostor, “It’s been so long, and so many things happened to me, I barely remember who my instructors were. But, why not use my own talents to make myself look so good? I know upgrades can be controversial but everything in moderation, right? After all, it would be a shame not to use our skills. I really need to go check up on my unit.”

“I won’t keep you,” Ratchet replied as the Impostor hurried away from Ratchet. He seemed like a familiar face. Ratchet wasn’t upset at him anymore, like he was in the morning when he showed up two hours late.

At lunch, the Impostor sat alone. No one noticed anything suspicious about him, and thought that perhaps he was withdrawn. Pharma spotted him and decided to sit next to him. The Impostor was annoyed and tried his best to ignore that, though he didn’t fool Pharma.

“You know, Dr. Knockout, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile so sincerely,” said Pharma, “you look like you’re having a good day.”

“I am, Dr. Pharma,” replied the Impostor, “I’ve always wanted to be a doctor; a surgeon more specifically. It had always been my dream growing up. But I came from a small humble village. That scholarship I had won was a blessing. I had done so well in school. Everyone in the village was so proud of me. What about you? Did you have a similar experience?”

Pharma sighed, “I don’t think we’d see each other for a long time. We’re on different floors and I usually take my lunch to my office. But yes, my experience was similar. My family insisted I become one and I have the skills for it, so why not? I went through school and graduated with honors. I was one of, if not, the best student in my class. Everyone was proud of me.” Pharma’s smile turned to a slight frown, adding, “To tell you the truth, I never really wanted to be a doctor. But I was good at it and it made everyone else proud of me. People are getting the medical care they want and that’s what matters.”

The Impostor paused. He seemed a bit concerned about Pharma’s reply. He felt he should’ve seen the answer coming. “So what did you want to do instead?”

“Does it even matter?” replied Pharma as he began to eat, “It’s too late now.“ He and the Impostor didn’t talk to each other for a while. Finally, Pharma spoke again. “Was he the one you wanted to see?”

The Impostor thought about what Pharma was talking about. He had been so focused on performing as a doctor that his mission didn’t come to mind at first, “Yes.” 

Pharma smiled deviously. “I will speak to Dr. Ratchet after lunch about this. I hope that this talk will go a little easier for you. After all, I want you to be able to do a good job. It’s your first day here.”

“I understand,” replied the Impostor. Pharma had finished eating his lunch and left the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Prowl was sitting alone and Ratchet joined him. “Dr. Ratchet, you seem excited,” said Prowl, as he fluttered his door wings.

“I am,” said Ratchet, “but I’m still a bit anxious over that new medic. He’s very…I’ve never worked with a Decepticon before. His methods were unusual and at the end, he deviated completely from what it says in the textbooks but he saved a mech’s life. What’s wrong, you look a bit sad?”

“I’m concerned about Dr. Pharma,” replied Prowl, “he’s going to be devastated once my rotation is over. I also feel guilty about what I am learning. He’s gone against the rules by favoring me above the other interns. He tells me these helpful shortcuts on how to work efficiently, yet still comply with hospital policy. I’m not even going to use this and all this information is going to be wasted. And I can’t bring myself to talk to everyone else.”

“I understand. I’m actually quite surprised he’s taken a liking to you. Both of you are so different when it comes to following the rules. I didn’t think you’d get along so well. As for your concern about the wasted knowledge, I didn’t think it would be a problem. Interns have post-conference where they discuss what they’ve learned. Prowl, don’t tell me you don’t participate.”

“It’s difficult for me to speak in front of them. I’ve never been good with speeches. Sure, I say what needs to be said but I say nothing more and nothing less. I also don’t feel comfortable talking about something I have no knowledge in.”

“You’re not expected to be knowledgeable. In this hospital, you’re still learning. Please, if you are that worried about ‘wasting’ knowledge, this is the only way it can be used. Perhaps the others will learn from it. Is there anything else that’s bothering you?”

Prowl looked at Ratchet right in the optic and said, “No. It’s just that.” They continued eating their lunch and ended up talking about their beloved friend and leader, Optimus Prime.

Pharma entered Ratchet’s office. Ratchet sighed and asked, “Pharma you’ve been bothering me about this every four hours. You know I can’t move staff around, especially surgeons. Each floor needs one.”

“What about that ‘con you hired…what’s his name? Oh yes, Knockoff,” sneered Pharma, “isn’t he a surgeon too?”

Ratchet sat back on his chair and thought about it for a bit. “Alright, I’ll call him over. If he agrees, then you can transfer.” Pharma sighed with relief, “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, the Impostor entered the room and sat next to Pharma. Ratchet then said to him, “I hope I’m not over-burdening you Dr. Knockout, but how would you feel about being transferred to another floor?”

The Impostor looked a bit surprised, “Oh I wasn’t expecting this, but sure. What’s the problem exactly, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell you, but some of the patients are making Dr. Pharma uncomfortable –“

“Listen Ratchet, I don’t like Decepticons, it’s that simple,” interrupted Pharma, “I’ll put up with them, yes, but there’s this one scumbag in particular I cannot stand. We all know who he is. It’s the patient in room 113. He’s horrible and I hate having to deal with him. On that note, I’d like my favorite intern, Prowl, transferred along with me. Please and thank —“

“No!” snapped Ratchet, “Interns aren’t your personal servants. Prowl is assigned to Section 100 and that is where he will stay until his rotation here is over. The only one I’m moving here is you.”

“Oh Ratchet, you don’t understand. That scumbag I hate so much. You know why I hate him? Not because he’s a Decepticon, he’s disrespectful towards me, but he is even more so to Prowl. Yesterday, at around this time Prowl came to my office to tell me something. And this is what he said to me.” Pharma began to tell Ratchet and the Impostor, that Prowl had come to his office to report that the criminal had groped him or said lewd things to him. This all began the moment Prowl had first interacted with the criminal. That was about two weeks prior. The Impostor was disgusted and Ratchet was horrified. “…I wished he had told me this sooner so I’d have assigned him to care for other patients. You could tell he was not proud about admitting this. He was ashamed and fearful of being reprimanded. This is why, I’m asking you to please transfer him along with me. He does not need to be in a situation where he’s around his aggressor.”

“You handled the situation appropriately,” replied Ratchet, “but I can’t move Prowl —“

“You disgust me!” Pharma stood up and stormed out of the room. 

“I’m sorry you had to witness this,” Ratchet said to the Impostor, “this kind of thing rarely happens here. Even Pharma isn’t normally this rude, but I don’t blame him for being upset.”

“It’s alright, I’ve met plenty of bad mechs myself…” said the Impostor, “…don’t worry I’ll make sure that intern isn’t around him for long.” The Impostor left the office soon after.

Ratchet was unsure about Pharma’s story. Pharma had a tendency to exaggerate, but his wings flickered too much for it to have been a lie. From what he had heard about the criminal and seen, he wouldn’t put this behavior past him. He sat in his office unable to concentrate on his paperwork. He was unsure what hurt him more; Prowl’s treatment or the fact Prowl lied to him about the situation.

Meanwhile, Prowl was going into the rooms to check on the patients. He had just left one of the rooms as he walked by the nurse’s station to come across the Impostor talking to First Aid. First Aid spotted Prowl and waved for him to come over. “Prowl, I’d like you to meet Dr. Knockout,” said First Aid.

Prowl looked at the Impostor. He seemed so familiar. The Impostor recognized Prowl instantaneously because of his bow. First Aid explained to Prowl that he was no longer going to work with Pharma, but with Knockout instead. Prowl looked a bit disappointed while First Aid seemed a bit relieved. Prowl went back to work and First Aid walked with the Impostor to the criminal’s room.

The criminal was lying down on the bed. First Aid knocked on the door. The criminal perked up his head and was immediately disappointed with the fact it wasn’t Prowl, “What in the pits of Kaon do you want, you fraggin’ glitch?” He grabbed the coolant pitcher next to the bedside stand and threw it at First Aid. First Aid barely managed to dodge but the Impostor caught it, denting, and puncturing the pitcher in his grip. The loud popping the pitcher made frightened First Aid.

“Listen here, you’re under my care now and you must play by my rules,” said the Impostor, as he approached the criminal who saw his Decepticon insignia, “I run things a lot differently than that chatty vent-shouldered medi-jet. You mess with me, I’ll mess you up…”

“Um…Dr.Knockout,” First Aid panicked. Due to all the rules and regulations, threats were forbidden. However, this rule only applied to licensed professionals. The criminal knew about these rules. But he was genuinely terrified of the Impostor who was much taller and stronger than he was. Instead of replying disrespectfully, the criminal asked, “Why are you defending those Autobots? Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

The Imposter smirked, “From what I’ve heard about you, I’m not even on your side either. I’m not accused of treachery. This hospital is supposed to be a neutral zone, where we put aside our differences and treat the injured. Even if we disagree with their ideologies. This neutrality can only be maintained if we all take part in it, including patients and other guests. As far as you know, you’re safe for now.” The Imposter stepped back and signaled First Aid to leave the room with him.

“By Primus, this one’s a fragboy,” muttered the Imposter.

“Dr. Knockout!” First Aid put his servo on his chest, “watch your language!” The Impostor rolled his optics at him and went to check up on the other patients. First Aid had a bad feeling about the Impostor. With each passing astrosecond, this feeling worsened.

Back at Lockdown’s ship, Knockout was in the medbay trying to find out more about the CMO. From what he heard about him, it compelled him to help out the CMO in some way. Perhaps this was due to guilt. Someone who genuinely wanted to be a doctor because he loved to help others, stripped of his chance in a cruel, unfair manner. Knockout knew this medic’s story well at this point, but not his identity. There was a good reason the medic’s name was held in secrecy. If everyone knew it, it would sabotage any future attempts at returning to the field by completing his degree.

No one in the ship was guarding Knockout at this point. He was deemed harmless. That was why Knockout was looking through the medbay without any concerns. His results, so far, were fruitless. Not even a name or photo of the medic could be found. There was a small office there, but no signs of personal belongings. Any documentation found there was reference material or medical records of each of the crew-members. He hadn’t done a headcount, so he wasn’t sure who was missing. He knew Lockdown was away, as well as the CMO. Some of the crew-members almost looked like each other.

As he was about to leave, something caught his attention. A book on one of the shelves had a small gap between the pages. He opened the book, which was an old surgical textbook, and found a photo. It was of a young, fresh-faced mech surrounded by others who appeared to be relatives. The young mech was red, white with bits of green and wore the medical insignia proudly on his chassis. Knockout didn’t recognize him. Disappointed, Knockout closed the book but at least he now put a face to him. He returned to the recreational area and sat at a table.

The mech who was in charge of guarding Knockout sat next to him. “Don’t worry, Doctor, we’re almost done. The shift is close to wrapping up. You’ll be able to go home and sleep in your bed.”

Knockout sighed. Perhaps it was due to the stressful situation he had found himself in; he started to see things a bit differently. He without looking at the guard, Knockout said, “I don’t even know this mech and I feel so sorry for him.”

“Don’t say that,” said the guard, “he hates pity. I know him well, and he’d tell you that himself. He told us to tell you about him, so you could understand why he needed to borrow your license on such a short notice. Compared to him, you’re very privileged. I guess he didn’t think you’d understand…” The crew’s phone beeped. Knockout managed to read the message when the guard was looking at his phone. Apparently, the CMO wanted them to have a weight ready. There was an alarm on the criminal’s bed that would go off if the criminal was taken out of the bed. This weight was to trick the alarm.

The end of the shift was nearing, and the Impostor went to check on the criminal one last time. Intimidated by him, the criminal behaved well and cooperated with him when his vital signs were taken. Fortunately for the Impostor, the criminal was not connected to any monitoring device. All he had was the alarm. The Impostor listened to the criminal’s cooling fans with his stethoscope and appeared visibly concerned.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?” asked the criminal.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” replied the Impostor, “earlier, I suspected there was something wrong with your cooling fans because of the manner you were attacked. Fighting in a dust storm? You’re already overheating in combat, plus the debris you inhaled? Don’t worry; I have this injection in hand that would help your body expel that debris.” The Impostor took out a small syringe and showed it to him. “It’s a very strong medicine, we didn’t want to have to use it, but your condition has been slowly declining. I think it should be used now, instead of waiting like Dr. Pharma did. The last thing I’d want is for you to be hooked up to a ventilator.” The criminal nodded.

The Impostor prepared the injection. He injected the criminal in the thigh, between his plating. The criminal began to feel sleepy. The last thing he saw was the Impostor writing down something on a clipboard. As soon as the sedative took effect, the Impostor taped a piece of paper with more instructions about how to temporarily disable the alarm. He covered up the criminal with the sheets and attached a tracking device to the criminal’s wristband. The Imposter left the room to do his change of shift report.

When the crew had the signal, a couple of them ground-bridged to the criminal’s room. They disabled the alarm, and put the weight on his bed before going back to their ship without a trace. By this time, the Impostor had already left the hospital. The last few hours of Prowl’s shift were difficult. The Impostor had assigned him too many small tasks that had Prowl running back and forth with no time to check on the criminal. When Prowl was finally done, he decided to check on the criminal one last time. Seeing the criminal gone, Prowl’s spark sank. He activated the alarm while shaking uncontrollably. Though every door and window was locked, it was no use; the criminal too was long gone.

The Impostor was back at the ship, he had been picked up at a random location. He entered the recreational area to relax a bit before debriefing the crew. He wanted to wait for the others to lock up the criminal in their jail. To his surprise, he saw Knockout there and looked very displeased. Knockout hadn’t even noticed the Impostor standing next to him.

“Why?” said the Impostor, trying to remain calm, “Why is he sitting here with us? Were the orders not clear? He was supposed to be treated as a guest while in jail, not as a guest who’s allowed to walk around the ship casually.”

The mech Knockout saw standing before him, wearing his signature red paint-job, looked nothing like the mech in the old photo. The crew-members tried to explain, but the Impostor signaled them to be quiet. Knockout wanted to say something to him, but was too scared. The mech looked like someone who’d easily tear him apart. Finally, the Impostor spoke, “Restrain him.” The crew-members held Knockout. He finally decided to speak to the Impostor as soon as he saw him pull out another syringe with a sedative.

“Hey! You can’t just inject me…what…what if I’m allergic to that?” said Knockout as his voice quivered.

“You’re not,” replied the Impostor calmly, “I checked your medical history beforehand. You’re only allergic to a certain type of paint. Just because I don’t have a license like you do, doesn’t mean I practice unsafe medicine. I know what I’m doing. This entire job has been planned for longer than you think.” The Impostor was getting ready to inject Knockout, but he paused, “Do you have any idea what would happen to you or your license if they’d even suspect you’re involved?”

Knockout looked at the Impostor, “I promise you, I won’t tell. I won’t tell!”

“It’s not about what you’ve seen. I can’t live with myself knowing that I had a hand in having someone’s license wrongly taken from them. Do you understand? In the end, I’m above doing to others what was done to me.” The Impostor injected Knockout who was quickly sedated. The Impostor left the room and closed the door. Knockout was dropped off near his home, since they knew where he lived.

Later that evening, Starscream was presented with the criminal in chains. He was delighted with the capture. Everything went well. After inspecting him for a bit, Starscream asked, “Where is Lockdown, your leader? I wanted to personally reward him.”

“He’s recharging in his room. He’s exhausted,” replied one of the crew-members, “He worked a whole shift.”

“I see…” annoyed, Starscream had the criminal taken away and he paid the bounty hunters their due.

Meanwhile, Lockdown sat in his quarters, unable to rest. He was badly hurt, not physically but emotionally. He had hoped he’d be at peace with his past but he was so wrong. It had been many years since he felt at peace with himself. It was something he wished for but could never have. Everything that had happened to him earlier, happened perfectly. At one point, he had forgotten about his mission. Like a dream, it had ended quickly and he now had to face reality. He looked around and found himself sitting on the floor with the flakes of red and white paint he had scraped off his frame. He was reminded of his shameful failure and almost without thinking, let out a loud anguished cry. He couldn’t even compose himself at that point and failed that as well.

**Author's Note:**

>   * If you’re wondering why Lockdown from my AU is vain, it’s because of what was said in this AU. He sees himself as a failure, therefore he is ugly. So he tries to make himself “hotter” so he’d be less of a failure, but his spark is so hurt that he’d never see his own beauty and will always be ugly to himself.
>   * The Alpaca and Sheep reference comes from an old chat where a friend remarked that TFP Knockout looks like a lamb. Alpaca is from the Vocaloid video of the dancing alpaca (I have a fondness for the [SeeU version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUvMJgEBDcE) but the [original one was with Miku](https://youtu.be/4CJegZYagNs)) and the alpaca is mistaken for a lamb. Also, alpaca’s have longer necks much like Lockdown has a longer neck than Knockout.
> 



End file.
